


I Dreamed a Dance

by superfluouskeys



Category: PCBH, Prisoner (TV), Prisoner: Cell Block H
Genre: F/F, a l m o s t, angsty fluff, but shameless nonetheless, lol this is so fluffy it almost embarrasses me, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 20:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superfluouskeys/pseuds/superfluouskeys
Summary: Terri's new boss wants to take her dancing.  Terri likes dancing.





	I Dreamed a Dance

**Author's Note:**

> It has come to my attention that Joan Ferguson was a competitive ballroom dancer. I am Very Sorry but anyway the Platters are your general song suggestion for this, specifically:
> 
> "I Love You Yes I Do" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vA4e4M5q4_w  
> "Wish It Were Me" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MpFE-7oJvGM  
> and finally, "Only You (And You Alone)" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FygIKsnkCw

It's well past two in the morning when Terri gives up on the notion of sleeping.

She steals one of Joan's oversized sweaters, puts on a kettle for tea, and curls up in Joan's chair while she waits for the water to boil.  She closes her eyes and breathes deeply.  Everything is happening so fast, and Terri isn't used to having no one to turn to.

Terri's new boss wants to take her dancing.  Barry is fun, and he's the life of the party.  He likes to go places and meet people and try things.  But he's also very persistent, almost pushy, and Terri isn't quite ready to admit it aloud yet, but she knows Joan is right--Barry has taken a special interest in Terri.

Terri still feels acutely terrible about the fight they had the other night.  Joan acted like it was no big deal--to be expected, even.  She'd been teasing, and Terri had lashed out, because she was afraid, might still be afraid...well, when people like Barry take an interest, it's difficult to resist.  Come to lunch, stay a little longer, come to dinner, one more drink, you don't have to get home, why do you have to get home?

It's easier not to argue, and Barry is fun, and he likes to go places and meet people and try things, and Joan is so paranoid, and Terri hates, positively _loathes_ that she just somehow knows things before Terri has even considered them.

The kettle whistles.

Barry wants to take her dancing.  Terri likes dancing.

Anyway, it would be rude to refuse, and he is her boss, and he is fun to be with, and perhaps it won't be the way it sounds at all--perhaps there will be lots of people who like to dance, and perhaps she could even convince Joan to come along, and then...

Terri stirs her tea and adds a bit of honey.  She can't imagine it at all.  Joan doesn't like going places or meeting people or trying things.  The idea of Joan dancing is...

Well, it's very charming, actually.  In fact, as soon as the image has presented itself to Terri, she finds she longs for it, quite acutely for something that ought to be so unimaginable.

Terri takes a sip of her tea and retreats to Joan's chair to indulge her fantasy a bit further.  With Joan there, Terri wouldn't have to worry about being cornered into having another drink or staying longer than she'd intended--something she's never thought of as a credit to Joan until recently.  And sure, Joan would complain, but she would come around in the end.  She would see how nice everyone is, would see there's no reason to be jealous or paranoid, because Barry is very persistent, almost pushy, but he's also fun, and he's the life of the party, and he's...

And he's not Joan, and he could never hope to compare.

Terri squeezes her eyes closed and sighs heavily.  Joan wouldn't like Barry.  And she wouldn't go dancing, and if Terri cajoled her into it, she'd be miserable.  They'd fight, about Barry or about Terri's other coworkers, or about some stupid comment someone made, and Terri would wonder whether she oughtn't to have allowed herself to be cornered into having another drink or staying longer than she'd intended, because Joan would probably be right, but it's easier not to think about those things. 

It's easier to pretend that people at least mean well.

Seized by the curious whims that come of a sleepless night, Terri stands and wraps Joan's sweater more tightly about herself.  She examines the records she's put next to Joan's, but finds that none of them suits her, and turns to Joan's odd, old-fashioned collection, instead.

She chooses the one that sounds the least depressing and drops the needle at random.  It's actually not the kind of thing she'd have expected Joan to have at all--most of her music errs much more on the side of funeral dirge than cutesy old pop ballads, but the sweet croon of the voices and the easy rhythm of the music suit Terri's mood well enough.  She closes her eyes and wraps her arms about herself, twirls around the living room and allows her mind to drift back to the world where Joan would go dancing with her.

In Terri's mind, they're both dancing with vague, faceless approximations of men.  Terri supposes she's probably dancing with Barry, and she supposes he must be a good dancer to want so vehemently to take Terri dancing.  She imagines Joan is a bit clumsy, but in Terri's fantasy, she's smiling, not at her partner, but over her shoulder at Terri.

Terri smiles to herself, and she hums along vaguely with the song she's chosen, and she gathers up Joan's oversized sweater and pulls it up to her face as she spins about the room, and suddenly instead of Barry or some vague, faceless man, she imagines dancing with Joan.

She stops and opens her eyes.  The music fades out to static, and Terri steadies herself on the back of the chair.  As abruptly as she's thought of it, she wants it desperately, and this she knows is impossible.

Another song begins.  Terri shakes her head, feeling suddenly on the verge of tears, and once more she draws Joan's sweater up to her face, breathes it in, breathes in the faint scent of Joan, and tries to banish the unwelcome, impossible idea from her mind.  She throws her head back and hums along to another song she doesn't know, and she spins and she spins until she runs into something solid where there shouldn't be anything solid.

Joan catches Terri gently by the elbows, and Terri opens her eyes, stunned.  "Joan!"

Joan looks exhausted.  She's already taken off her jacket and loosened her tie, and her hair has just begun to fight against the severe style she favours at work.  But there's warmth in her eyes, and her expression is soft.  "Don't stop on my account," she says.

"I'm sorry," says Terri.  "I hope you don't mind."

"Not particularly, no," Joan quirks one brow thoughtfully.  "Though you might get an earful from the neighbours."

Terri bows her head, embarrassed.  "It's not that loud, is it?"

One of Joan's hands finds the curve of Terri's jaw.  "No," she says, quietly.  The obvious question is in her voice.

Terri bites her lip, unwilling to meet Joan's searching eyes just yet.  She isn't sure how much she wants to say, and Joan always knows so much more than Terri has even begun to consider, and the whole thing seems too foolish to speak aloud, but Terri isn't used to having no one to turn to.  Her parents won't speak to her because of all this, and she knows what her friends would say, but Joan...

Barry wants to take Terri dancing because he likes dancing.  Barry is fun, and he's the life of the party, and he likes to go places and meet people and try things.

Joan loves Terri.  Joan wants Terri to be happy.  If Terri asks Joan to go dancing with her, she realizes suddenly, Joan will do it, even if it makes her miserable.

Terri extracts herself from Joan and squeezes Joan's arm as she goes.  She glances at the record and moves the needle to the start of a random song.  Then she turns back to Joan and holds out her hands, offers a hesitant smile.  "Dance with me?"

Joan's face sort of twitches into a surprised little half-smile.  "What?"

Terri takes a few tentative steps, holds out her hands again.  "Please?"

The echo of a smile turns into something of a smirk, and Joan gives Terri a studious once-over that sends a shiver through her.  Joan approaches with confidence, takes one of Terri's proffered hands, and pulls her into a proper dance form, in perfect time with the music.

In the silence, Terri is acutely aware of her own sharp inhalation.

Joan leads her in a slow waltz like she's been doing it all her life.  In response to what Terri is certain must be slack-jawed wonderment, Joan says, "I won a competition to this song, you know."

"A competition?" Terri echoes.

Joan leads her in a turn.  A flawless cue, perfect resistance, a strong hand to draw her close once more.  Terri finds herself smiling rather giddily.

"The Major felt that a woman ought to be able to deport herself properly on the dance floor," Joan elaborates with a little shrug.  "I've still got the trophies around somewhere."

Terri is almost laughing.  "You're full of surprises!"

Joan's confident smirk widens a little more.  She pulls Terri closer and they spin together, perfectly controlled, perfectly in tempo, except that Terri thinks her head might be spinning, too, and when they've returned to the basic pattern, she's practically hanging onto Joan for dear life.

Mercifully, though the questions are practically shining in her eyes, Joan doesn't ask her what's wrong, or why she couldn't sleep.  Instead, she holds Terri tightly against her, and she begins to sing along to the song, voice low and rough, but undeniably sweet.

" _Only you can make this change in me,  
For it's true, you are my destiny_ ," Joan sings, and it's as close to playful as Terri has ever seen her.

Then she leads Terri into another turn, and together they travel seamlessly around the furniture in the little living room, as Joan continues to sing, "When _you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do..._ "

Terri isn't sure whether she wants to laugh or cry.  Joan draws her close, still singing,  " _You're my dream come true, my one and only you."_

Terri breaks from their perfect form to throw her arms about Joan's shoulders.  She ducks her head and hides her face, hides from the world and from herself, and Joan holds her without question.  She sways gently to the music, still humming low and soft just shy of Terri's ear.

 _You're my dream come true,_ the music echoes,  
_My one and only you..._


End file.
